Books Hold More Than Knowledge
by bemusedmuse
Summary: Amy Pond discovers the library and with it, secrets that could help her unravel the mystery surrounding The Doctor. NO REUNION. Just reminiscing.


Amy wandered through one of the many corridors, looking for something to do. The Doctor had disappeared a few hours earlier after quickly setting the TARDIS to orbit around a star. "Ginger hair really _is_ a novelty, Pond. Less than four percent of the whole population has it! Think of it, Amy! Less than four percent; well, it's usually around two, if I'm correct. Which I am." His companion leaned back and crossed her arms in the captain's chair, a small smirk on her face. Amy then stopped listening and just kept nodding at the appropriate times, not paying attention to his ranting. The Doctor continued rambling before finally exiting through one of the archways, still mumbling about proteins and chromosomes and, "One day, Amy. One day I'll be in that two percent." She hadn't even noticed him leave - her mind drifting back to Leadworth - and Amy really had just about given up looking for the weirdo.

"Doctor!" she called, pale hands running along the edges of the wall. "Doctor, I'm bored! Let's go somewhere," her voice seemed to split and run off in every direction, searching the accompanying passages with a ghostly quickness before returning to her ears, making her sigh when she was greeted with only an echo. "Honestly, for a time-traveling alien, he sure does like to just hang-about." The young woman's pace quickened as she rounded a corner and saw a large, wooden door.

"Ah-Ha!" Amy yelled after yanking on the golden handle, hoping to have finally found The Doctor. Her face fell as she took in the cavernous room; she had found what appeared to be the library. The normally boisterous Scott hesitantly entered the large, warm room with the same manner she adopted every time she discovered something new on the TARDIS. You never knew what could happen, especially when you're wandering about The Doctor's personal space.

A tall, leather-covered chair sat opposite a very inviting-looking couch, both in front of a vast fireplace. Cool wood met her bare feet, making Amy shiver as she watched the light of the flames dance across the high ceilings. Amy had found other rooms while onboard the TARDIS, sure. But none of them had looked quite so… _Intimate._ Everything she had stumbled upon in the ship – the kitchen, bathrooms, sitting rooms, even her own bright purple bedroom – had all seemed very, well, ordinary. Even the swimming room with its floor lighting and amazing acoustics shone less brightly in comparison to the room she was now standing very still in. Amy wondered if this was what The Doctor's bedroom looked like.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls flanking the fireplace, making Amy's head spin looking at all the tiny print of the coloured spines, wondering how much raw knowledge was in just this room alone.

She walked over and put her hands on the back of the ancient leather. "Is it okay that I'm in here?" Amy asked, addressing the TARDIS. A low hum reverberated through the floors, the walls as Amy gazed at the tower of books a short distance in front of her. She wanted _so_ to run her fingers along the dusty books, pick one at random, and read in front of the fire. Another hum came and a book was knocked off the shelf, making it fall to the floor with a loud _smack!_ Amy jumped out of her reverie. "That's all the motivation I need," she said, smiling as she walked across the thick rug to retrieve the fallen book.

"_Nature of the Physical World by Arthur Eddington,_" Amy read, pouting at the title. She opened the front cover curiously, frowning as she learned the nature of the book. "Astrophysics. Great. Fun, even." She said dryly. _"The TARDIS kicked it off the shelf for me; she must want me to flip through. Can't hurt," _Amy thought as she carried the worn book over to the plush couch, sinking deep into the cushions and pulling her feet up and under her in a comfortable cross.

She flipped to the first page, grimaced, and gave up on the second. It was only the introduction, but it was still dry and utterly _scientific._ Amy snapped the book closed, dropped it to the floor and curled up farther into the cushions. Glancing down, ("_Maybe I should give it another go."_) the ginger-haired woman noticed it had fallen open at random to where a photograph had been carefully hidden in between the pages. Amy, instantly intrigued, quickly reached down and snatched it up. She rubbed her thumb over the glossy outline of a smiling, slender man. He stood, doubled-over in hilarity, his face turned toward the camera and his arm around the waist of a girl. She was about Amy's age it looked like; blonde hair, loose blue sweatshirt and tight jeans. She was looking down at the pin-striped man, her brown eyes glowing with laughter. They were in some room, the surrounding glow reminding Amy of the console. She stared at the picture, not knowing what it was about.

Amy practically leapt off the couch and grabbed the book, going to sit in the old chair. She let the worn copy fall open in her lap, revealing two more photos. The first was of the man in the suit again. By himself, Amy could see him more clearly; his hair was a wreck, all sticking out every-which-way and those sideburns! He was tall, hands stuffed in the pockets of his brown and blue pin-striped suit, looking off camera and smiling. For some reason, the picture made Amy feel very sad.

The other was of the two again, except it was much closer to their faces. The man looked like he was trying to grab something out of the girl's hand, a blue and silver device that looked oh-so familiar. The image off an over-turned camera stand could be seen lying on the grated floors behind where the be'striped man was laughing, wrapping his arms around the grinning blonde in an attempt to get back whatever that was.

Amy blushed at the pictures, knowing they were extremely private. She got up, put the pictures and book back in their places, and realized she didn't care if it was private – this was The Doctor, surrounded by maybes and somewhats. Amy couldn't help herself.

She scanned the shelves, looking for any sign of wear-and-tear. It was not hard to come by; she narrowed her search to the most loved-looking spines. Her slim fingers grasped a Bukowski, gently tugging the book from its close quarters. She sat down in the chair, flipped the copy over and, holding both covers firmly, shook the old book. Nothing came of it. Annoyed, Amy shook again, harder. She was rewarded with the sound of fluttering pages and a soft bump against her foot. Looking down, the young woman laid the book on the arm of the chair and bent to retrieve whatever treasures she may have found.

She unfolded a piece of blue paper, reading the tall lettering thanking her for her stay at Midnight, encouraging her to go on tours to see the infamous Sapphire Waterfall, and warning her of the deadly X-tonic radiation. Amy tossed _that_ useless thing aside.

She picked up a small ticket for a shuttle ride to this _Sapphire Waterfall._ She placed that on top of the blue handout. Seeing that there was nothing else on the floor, Amy put things back in their places and went in search for more secrets. She flipped through the mind of Homer, Shakespeare, Dante, Gaiman. She pulled apart the sticky pages of a collection of Neruda poems, several suspiciously jam-looking stains spread throughout the book. Amy shook Einstein, Darwin, Heisenberg, Bell, and Schrödinger without mercy.

Her valiant efforts produced a very respectable pile of papers. She sank out of the chair and onto the rug, hands gliding over her spoils. Amy pulled a piece of parchment (_"Parchment!"_) from the pile. A rough drawling of a woman and a familiar keen smile looked up at her from the paper. A note at the bottom read, "_Thanks for finding Lisa for me, she is an accomplished sitter. Though I am still debating whether or not to just use young Gian, it would make him smile so! – LdV" _She placed this to the side with a smile and turned back to the pile. What looked like a schematic of The Doctor's sonic was laid overtop an extremely thin slip of paper that kept changing colours and showed Amy her reflection. Amy's hand brushed over another photograph, this one of two men and that blonde girl again. The man in the suit was nowhere to be seen though the happy group stood - arms around each other's shoulders, each wearing a head-lantern and smiling - in the same familiar-looking room. The blonde was in the middle, between a very handsome - Amy noticed - bloke in suspenders and a blue button-down. He seemed very old and young at the same time, Amy thought, kind of like The Doctor. The other was taller, lankier, and extensively goofier. He looked entirely Northern with his hooking nose and ridiculous earlobes. He was looking down at the blonde with the same expression as the suited man in the picture before, and Amy was overwhelmed with a feeling of unwelcome sadness.

She tossed the picture onto the pile next to the signed "I owe you" from a Mr. Bell with a crude drawing of what Amy thought must be a very old telephone.

She perused through the steadily growing smaller pile in front of her, eyes scanning for pictures. A glossy corner caught her eye and she tugged out from under a thick section of papers. A very cross woman stared at her from the frames of the picture. Hands on hips, ginger hair tied in a ponytail, the woman looked absolutely terrifying. Amy quickly found more. A tiny, dark girl wearing a red leather jacket and tight jeans smiled closed-mouthed at Amy. And the blonde, always the blonde. Here she was with the goofy northerner again, one hand holding his and another around his neck while his wrapped around her waist – they were dancing. She laughed next to a tired and meek-looking man; someone had written "IDOIT" across his forehead and he rubbed his eyes. She's sitting at the kitchen table with the ginger woman, the tiny girl, the handsome man, Mickey the Idiot and a few others, including the man in the suit. He wasn't in his pinstripes, he donned a dark blue suit and leaned against the wall next to the table, gazing at the blonde. Amy didn't know why but he seemed… _Different_.

"Well, Pond, it seems you've found the library. Took you long enough if I might say. You've been here what; four, five days? Much too long to have just found the library! You simply must put more effort into-"

Amy jumped and tried to somehow cover up the mess of papers in front of her. After realizing it was useless, she was caught, the Scott took a deep breath and turned around, ready to face The Doctor's rightful anger at her for sorting through his private matters.

But he didn't look angry. He looked… Sad. Positively _heartbroken._ Amy had seen this look before, when The Doctor would sometimes reminisce, his stories always ending with a pregnant pause and his, "_Yes. Well, they're gone now, so." _ But Amy had never seen it in such intensity before. His mask of silliness and Time-Lordliness completely down to show Amy that he was, in fact, a tormented soul.

All her excuses and gibes at his obviously bad habit were forgotten and Amy looked down at the photo she was holding. The blonde girl again – by herself – staring at the camera with a look of adoration, her brown eyes lit up with adventure. "Doctor," Amy said, pulling him from his stare at the pile of papers littering the ground behind her and calling attention to the picture she was holding. "Who was she?"

She stepped a little closer to him and gently handed him the photo. "I've been looking through these pictures and she keeps popping up. Was she special?"

The Doctor rubbed his thumb over the glossy surface, his floppy hair falling into his eyes. "Her name was Rose."

Amy watched as he straightened himself a little and reached inside his ridiculous jacket, eyes meeting hers for the first time since he entered the room. They shone with the same strange, sad look as the suited man from the other pictures. The Doctor rummaged around a bit and then pulled a worn picture out of his pocket, unfolding it and handing it to Amy.

It was the girl again – Rose. She was with the man with the crazy hair; it was obvious that he was holding the camera above their heads, making them press close together. Rose's head was turned, her lips on his cheek. His eyes focused on her sideways, a huge smile playing across his lips. Amy caught herself smiling and quickly handed it back to The Doctor, his eyes still bright.

He stood there for a moment, smiling tightly down at the picture. "And, yes. She was special."


End file.
